Her Sacrifice
by i-embrace-OCD
Summary: Oneshot. Katara sacrifices herself to save Aang's life and the world's last hope for peace. Toph and Sokka think about what she means to them, and what the group's companionship means to each other. Kataang, slight Tokka.


Author's Note: My first Kataang centered anything, my second oneshot with a scene from the final battle. This one's a whole lot better (in every aspect, I think). It's longer, too. I just wrote it on a whim. Un-beta'd, written around midnight and after listening to sad songs. Yeah.

Katara sacrifices herself to save Aang's life and the world's last hope for peace. Toph and Sokka think about what she means to them, and what the group's companionship means to each other. Kataang, slight Tokka. Just to warn you, it's not very cheerful. Then again, when is death ever cheerful?

Disclaimer: Just an idea! Highly doubt this will happen! Also, I don't own Avatar. This wouldn't happen if I did, though; this was just something that occurred to me because I was thinking about sacrifice.

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**Her Sacrifice**

Aang hurtled into the dimly lit throne room. Katara was somewhere close behind him, and Sokka and Toph not far after; he panted furiously, trying to catch his breath, but he barely had a second's rest. A hoard of Fire Nation soldiers had surrounded him. He airbended them back, then bended the earthen rubble so that it would crush them. There were more coming to him, so many more, too many to count... he gasped for air but was rewarded with smoke. His lungs burned in want of oxygen, his muscles ached for some sort of compensation for the energy they had depleted already, but his mind reigned over his body. He would not give up. He _could not_ give up, could never betray his friends by allowing himself to withdraw into the comfort of unconsciousness. No. That was not an option.

He barely heard the normally defeaning sound of a grand pillar crashing to the ground. It meant nothing to him. The cries of despair were not those of his friends. They were not the cries of Katara, and so he continued, straining his body to the last reaches of its ability, crossing physical boundaries no twelve-year-old in history had ever crossed and should never have had to. He shook his head, tears from struggle and too much smoke pricking the corners of his eyes. He was unsure of whether it was the smoke that made everything blurry, or if it was his own consciousness fraying at the edges, but he tried to use his feet to see as Toph had taught him so that he might take a little strain off of his eyes. It proved to be horribly difficult when his mind was trying to focus on freezing three soldiers about to cascade into him. He threw himself to the side just in time to see the ice sculptures skid into the wall and crash into a million icy shards that rained over his head. He briefly wondered how Toph was faring, as she didn't even have the option of eyesight, but the thought only lasted for a second. He knew she was okay. She had to be. It was _Toph._

He dared not pick up the sword that lay at his feet. He momentarily admired Sokka's inability to bend; that warrior was really handy with weapons. He hurled the sword into the smoky abyss and heard a _clang _as it hit a soldier's armor. A howl of pain erupted from the direction he'd thrown the weapon, but it faded into the chorus of other cries of hurt, cries of despair, cries of need. He ignored them. He had to. He didn't want to, and it was against his nature to disregard people who so obviously needed him, but he told himself that the way he could best aid those who have fallen was to finish the fight, and the only way he could finish the fight was to finish Azula.

Azula had to die.

It still surprised him that she had killed her father; Ozai would have reinstated Zuko's right to the throne if she hadn't, though, and she wanted the divine right to rule. They were a twisted family. Zuko, in a fit of rage and under the influence of such a deep betrayal, had tried to switch sides. No one trusted him, of course; he had sort of expected them to welcome him with open arms, but this had not happened. He had remained faithful to the Avatar and the side of good, though, so Aang, in his innocent, childish need to believe the best in people, had accepted Zuko's allegiance, despite Katara's blatant distrust of him.

A brilliant, piercing scream permeated the boundary of Aang's mind. _Katara. _She was all he could think about, and he knew, although he had never heard her scream with such pain and fury in his life, that it was her. It had to be her. Only Katara could make him forget his duties as the Avatar, only Katara could make him forget what was going on and make him numb of his surroundings, make him numb of everything, every feeling, every shred of humanity he had inside of him...

He shook violently as he ran toward the sound. He forgot how to bend, forgot where he was, forgot everything in his effort to control himself; he tried desperately not to go into the Avatar State, but a small voice in his mind told him that no matter how angry he was, he wouldn't be able to. Azula had damaged it, and he could no longer enter the Avatar State; that same voice in his mind told him that this was his natural rage causing his entire body to tremor, that he was only trying to control the Avatar State as a reflex. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. The only thing that held any sort of significance in his mind was _her, _and even though the scream that had erupted from Katara had died away, he still felt it. It had seeped into his bloodstream, had gone right to his heart, and it still reverberated in his body, the only thing that made him blindly pursue the place where the noise had come from.

The fact that he was back on the battlefield barely registered; it was subdued by the realization that Azula was standing over the limp body of Katara. The image was crystal clear - all smoke seemed to have been sucked away from the atmosphere. Everything seemed to have disappeared into an invisible vacuum, all of the cries and crashes and smoke and haze. The only things that were still with him, the only things that continued to register as constant in his mind, were Azula and Katara.

His eyes turned to slits and without the silly exchange of words that Azula enjoyed so much, he attacked. As he made himself approach her at a run, he noticed a movement from Katara in the corner of his eye; she was alive! Azula leaped aside so as to avoid the oncoming Avatar, and Aang, barely noticing that Azula had crept out of his line of vision, fell to his knees. He pulled Katara into his arms and began to shake worse than ever. Hot tears flowed down his face and he saw her eyes open, just a little.

"Katara!" he exclaimed, holding her tighter but still tenderly. "You're alive."

"I'm alive," Katara repeated weakly. She smiled, but the gesture faded. She coughed and tried to sit up. "Azula-"

"It's okay, Katara, everything's okay..." He did not see Azula in the corner of his eye. Katara took up all of his vision, all of his heart, body, and mind. Everything he needed was in his arms. He could imagine no danger. Katara was _alive._

"No." Katara was successful in sitting up this time and did so quickly. Her voice gained control and volume at a surprisingly fast rate. "No, Aang. Azula!"

Aang heard the terror in her voice and followed her quivering gaze to where it rested on the imposing threat. Azula conjured a ball of blue fire and it bounded forward, advancing far more quickly than its creator, fast and hard.

Aang didn't even think a second. He secured Katara in his arms in one quick pull and leapt aside, watching the remnants of a brick wall they'd been in front of buckle and fall to the ground in a rather large heap. Both occupied with wondering what would have happened if Aang had taken a moment more, neither noticed Azula approach them and they both returned to the concept of battle when Katara was wrenched from Aang's arms. Azula had snatched her wrist and forced her aside with a strength that suggested her muscles had not yet begun to beg for mercy, a strength that Katara vainly wished would return to her own body.

Aang, wide-eyed and trembling all the more, stared at Katara's form as she attempted to lift herself up. As soon as it looked like she might be successful, however, Azula stepped between them, blocking his view. "Your pretty girlfriend's getting tired, isn't she, Avatar? Don't you want her suffering to stop? Don't you wish this fight were over?"

"It _will_ be over. As soon as I finish you."

"Both of us know that you're too weak to fight me. If you surrender, however... we might be able to work something out." She smiled wickedly. He said nothing, knowing perfectly that she was in a much better state than he and his chances of winning a fight were indeed slim.

"No, Aang, don't do it!" Katara pleaded. She dared not approach him, for Azula would surely hurt her worse and further cloud Aang's judgement. That didn't stop her from voicing her concerns. Katara had seen the way his eyes flickered with prospect. He was actually considering giving himself up, if only to subdue the suffering everyone was facing. He believed he would be doing the right thing because it would be saving them from the battle, but really, it would only be ensuring Fire Nation victory in the war and sucking away every last tendril of hope within the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes.

"Shut-up, stupid girl," Azula spat. Aang's indecision quickly evaporated and all that was left within him was pure rage. He _hated _Azula, hated everything she stood for and wanted. He hated her, and he would never give her what she wanted.

"I will _never _surrender!" he proclaimed. His fists were clenched, his eyes narrowed, his voice loud and defiant. "I will _never _give you what you want."

"You will regret that," Azula said. Then, in the blink of an eye, she drew her arm back and fired a bolt of lightning. By the time she realized that the hit hadn't reached her desired target, however, it was too late.

"No!" Aang shouted. Katara's completely limp body was now in front of him, between he and Azula. She had caught the twitch in Azula's arm before she'd made the movement, and she had acted. Azula would not destroy the world's last hope for peace. Azula would not take away the Avatar's life, would not kill the last airbender and would not harm _Aang_. Would not harm her friend, the boy she had rescued from the iceberg all that time ago, the boy that she had come to know so well and even love, love with everything she had. Katara had done everything in her power to make sure of it, including sacrificing herself.

Aang did not have to use his feet to not feel her heartbeat. He knew she was dead. He wasn't sure how he knew it, he just _knew, _beyond the shadow of a doubt, that he would never hear her voice again. He wouldn't hear her laugh anymore, and it made him believe he would never laugh again, either. He saw tears glistening on her cheeks and that made him want to cry as she had cried. He wanted to be with her, wanted nothing more than to see her bright eyes filled with hope and prospect and love. He wouldn't be able to, and that made his throat tight, his heart pound. He needed her, but the world needed him. She had seen the second one as more important, and somehow that made his loss more real. More painful, if that was possible.

Azula still seemed a bit shocked and was just returning to true consciousness from her stupor as Aang was. He would not let her die in vain, and even if he was in a weak, emotional state, Azula was frightened. She had never been frightened before, never scared, never as afraid as she was at that moment. She had killed the waterbender (for that was all she saw Katara as; as far as Azula was concerned, she had no name), and the Avatar would make her pay. She knew that he would make her pay the same way that Aang knew Katara was dead. She just _knew, _and his revenge was imminent. She would not be able to stop him, and the thought of herself succumbing to a lower power (everyone was a lower power, in Azula's mind) melted her insides. Momentarily paralyzed by the overwhelming thoughts, Azula was helpless. Aang would never let her die for nothing, that much was written in the hardest stone. He struck.

All Azula saw was a flurry of red, though whether it was flames, blood, or a veil over the world caused by the Avatar's anger (they all seemed plausible aspects), she would never know. One moment was was looking into the Avatar's despairing, hateful, rage-mixed-with-sorrow gray eyes, and the next there was red, red all around her. Then there was nothing, quite literally: all feeling, all thoughts, all pain dimmed as though a candle's life was at its end, the wick too short to sustain it, and then nothing.

Aang had fallen to the ground beside Azula, more from exhaustion than anything, but it was still heartwrenching to know he was in such a terrible state. Toph had stayed near Sokka through the entire battle, but as soon as she'd felt Katara's heart stop beating, she had grabbed his hand and forced him through the fighters and into the tiny clearing where Aang's blast of firebending (he had never even learned how to firebend, but killing Azula with her native element seemed all too appropriate, so somehow he had managed it) had taken the last reserves of his strength, reserves he had never even thought possible to access.

Upon seeing his sister's body, Sokka had fallen to his knees at her side. He looked to Toph for some sort of answer, but she was frowning, shaking her head. He barely saw the way her legs shook beneath her weight, and it would have been impossible to see the tears falling from her eyes behind the smoke and her shield of black bangs. Then again, Toph would have preferred it this way.

Toph did not join Sokka at Katara's side. There would be no point, and besides, brother and sister needed some time together. She caught her bearings and focused on the remaining limp figures: Azula, dead; Aang, alive, but just. His heart thumped so slowly and with such effort that she wondered if he wouldn't die, too; it certainly seemed that way, and while she didn't care for the Avatar as Katara had, she still needed him to live. She carefully got on her knees besides him and wished Katara alive again; Katara was the healer, not her. She was the fighter, the tough one. How could she help him heal?

The battle still raged around them, unaware that Azula had fallen and Aang was the victor. Everyone still fought, despite the enormous loss of Katara. They did not know. Sokka tried to bite back tears, but found that they had already started to flow freely. He held Katara in his arms and hugged her to him, hoping beyond hope that she was actually alive. All he needed was to see her smile again, to hear her voice, but he wouldn't. His little sister was dead. Every time he thought of that horrible word - _dead_ - the lump in his throat grew bigger, and his shaking increased. He hated Azula, too, hated what she'd done, hated what he'd always known she'd do. He _had_ always figured Azula would hurt them, hurt _him_, but everyone always knew this of their enemies. Why, then, if it was so expected, did it hurt so much?

Toph knew that Sokka was crying by the way he attempted to subdue his sobs, by the way he shook. She _knew. _And that hurt her, too. She didn't want him to cry; Katara was dead, Aang was probably dying, everyone was still fighting, and she was crying, too. Too much at once, too much hurt.

She didn't pull Aang into her arms. Kneeling by him was foreign enough; she wanted Sokka to join her beside the Avatar, but she wouldn't stop him from holding his sister, from comforting himself. She wished he would hug her and tell her everything would be okay; she felt childish for wanting this, and guilty for wanting it when he was so obviously hurting, but that didn't change anything. She told herself that she didn't need to be consoled, that she was as solid as the Earth itself, but still she cried. Katara was _dead. _The girl that had given her a makeover in Ba Sing Se, the girl who had given her hope and made her feel okay, the girl who had kept all of them going even when she carried the weight of the group - the weight of a lot of things, certainly - on her shoulders, the girl who had kept them in line and helped their spirits and healed their wounds... that girl. That girl was dead, and suddenly the knot in Toph's stomach wound tighter. The taste of salt seeped into her mouth, and she knew that she was crying all the more.

Sokka couldn't believe that his little sister was gone. He'd suffered so much already; this war had taken him out of his comfort zone. He'd loved and lost; he'd fought and won. He'd trained. He'd experienced trial and error. Now he experienced the death of the one constant in his life; Katara had always been there, since before he could remember. Katara had been with him through every life-changing event. She had been there from the beginning. She had been there when their mother died; she had consoled him when their father went to war. She had been their group's foundation, that steady, always-beating heart. She had helped him through every trial and tribulation, but she wouldn't be able to help him now. He couldn't show weakness to Toph and Aang, not the kind that they were so unused to seeing. He couldn't cry into Toph's shoulder when everything came back to him all at once, all of those broken memories of used-to-be's from back before he had joined their quest, and Aang wouldn't be able to relate to him like his sister. His sister knew his strengths, his weaknesses, his ups and downs. She was the only one. She had been there through everything, had suffered with him, and now... she was gone.

Toph and Sokka were too wound up in their own thoughts to notice that they were not the only ones with the knowledge of Katara's death and Aang's unstable state. They had already blocked out the sounds of fighting and therefore had not realized the quiet that had fallen over the battlefield. The debris was trying to settle, trying and failing miserably; nonetheless, a crowd had gathered around them. Sokka felt a light pat on his shoulder; he did not bother to turn and see who it was. It was a friend, and that was all he needed to know. Toph, too, came to the realization that they were surrounded, but that didn't matter. Azula's supporters would see that she was dead, and the rest would grieve for Aang and Katara. That is, until they realized Aang was alive.

Two men scurried over to Aang. They attempted to pick him up, and Toph gave a half-hearted protest; she could not carry him, though, not in her weakened state, and she wanted to stay with Sokka anyway. She knew they were good people, so when they lifted him and held him with care, she did not try to stop them.

"He's alive." Her voice was a hoarse whisper, and her words were scratchy because of her raw throat, but most people heard it anyway. A lot of tension faded among the crowd of onlookers, and many followed the men with the Avatar to oversee his safety. No one came for Azula. No one really cared. The Fire Nation's figurehead had fallen, their cruel leader; they would go on. Now that she was dead, however, they would turn to a new leader, follow blindly in their sheep-like way. Azula was gone. Zuko would probably take the throne; no one would challenge him and win, they knew that.

Toph carried herself to Sokka and knelt beside him. He held Katara with one arm and managed to wrap the other around the earthbender; she decided it was a nice compromise, and when he pulled her closer, she buried her face in his tattered warrior clothes. He knew she had vulnerable moments, and she knew it would be okay to cry in front of him. She just didn't want the rest of the world to see it, even if they already knew.

Aang would never forgive himself, even if dying had been Katara's choice. Making that choice had cost _him _all of the hope of the world. The future was bleak at any angle. His first love, the girl that he had cared about more than life itself, had died for him. It brought forth tears whenever he thought about it, no matter how serious he was trying to be or how happy he acted like he was. The only things he could cling to (and he did for dear life) were the memories. Memories of her laugh, her smile, her eyes. Memories of her happiness. Memories of his _own _happiness that he had shared with her. Memories of her, of all of them together. Memories of her strengths, the way she overcame weaknesses. Not a day would go by for the rest of his life that he wouldn't think of her.

Aang had lived. Katara had sacrificed herself for his survival. Toph and Sokka grieved; the three survivors of the Avatar's infamous group wouldn't celebrate. They may put on their costumes and masquerade as cheerful war heroes, but victory in the war hadn't made them happy. The only thing that would make any of them happy, the only thing that would make any one of them truly smile again, was each other, because each of them knew the pain of losing a love, a sister, and a best friend.

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Author's Note: Review, please!


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